


Snake-Handling

by Karartegirl99



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Humor, Religion, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26138257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karartegirl99/pseuds/Karartegirl99
Summary: Crowley gets sidetracked while on a vacation in Appalachia. Aziraphale goes looking for him and finds that the demon has become the center of attention.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Snake-Handling

**Author's Note:**

> better nate than lever

The noise died down some when Aziraphale entered the sanctuary. The guitarist missed a couple of bars but managed to pick up her place after a moment. People who had been singing and dancing slowed and quieted as they regarded the newcomer, several of them apparently judging his fashion sense. Even the pastor couldn’t help but shoot him a glance. The only person who showed no sign of being disturbed was the woman who was busy dangling a large, black snake from her hands.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cried, quite forgetting that there were other people in the room. (This was to his benefit, because if he forgot they were there, then they wouldn’t hear any of the conversation that followed.) “Crowley, what on _Earth_ are you doing in a church?”

The snake, Crowley, twisted to look at Aziraphale. “Corrupting organized religion.”

“And how does _this,_ ” Aziraphale said, gesturing, “accomplish that, exactly?”

Crowley curled thoughtfully. “I’m not quite sure yet. I’ll tell you when I come up with something.”

“Crowley!”

“It’s not like I’m hurting anyone! This was all their idea.” Crowley tried to accentuate this with a tail-wag in the pastor’s direction, but the woman holding him had started swinging him around, and he wasn’t sure which was what anymore. Crowley nipped lightly at her fingers. “Hey, could you maybe hold still for a moment? I’m trying to talk to Aziraphale here.”

Aziraphale had had about enough of all this. He marched forward and yanked Crowley out of the woman’s grasp. “We’re getting you out of here, before you get smited, or, or you bite somebody. Crowley,” he went on, seeming to realize something. “Crowley, did you just bite that human?”

“They _want_ me to bite them,” Crowley protested.

Aziraphale looked back at the woman. Her hand was bleeding now, but she kept moving in time with the guitar as the pastor prayed over her. As much as Aziraphale believed in the power of prayer, this did little to calm his nerves. “Aren’t you venomous?”

Crowley gave him a mischievous look. “That’s kind of the point, now, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale’s grip on Crowley tightened almost imperceptibly. Crowley, wisely, backtracked. “I only used enough venom to make it sting a little, maybe leave a mark. I’m not going around killing humans, angel, promise! S’bad for business.”

“I should think it might be,” said Aziraphale. With a huff, he draped Crowley over his shoulders, making a few of the churchgoers cheer. But as he started walking back down the aisle towards the exit, the pastor moved to stop him.

“Hey now, don’t take the snake, would ya?” the pastor asked. “We’ve already had twelve snakes confiscated this year, and we’d rather not have to go out an’ get another one. Plus, you don’t look like the sort of guy who’s got the equipment to take care of it.”

“Oh, I think we’ll be alright,” Aziraphale said as he moved past. “Best of luck with…Well. Whatever all this is.”

As soon as they left the church, Crowley sighed with relief. Still, he showed no sign of moving from where he was coiled around Aziraphale’s neck. “Is it back to England, now, then?” he asked.

“If it’s alright with you. What brought you to the colonies in the first place?”

“Was on a snakation,” Crowley explained.

“A what?”

“A snake vacation,” he mumbled. Well, as much as a snake _can_ mumble. It sounded like air being let out of a balloon.

“Being that as it may, why are you still here? You’ve been gone for months, and I should think being swung about like a bag of potatoes isn’t particularly relaxing.”

Crowley didn’t answer right away. He tasted the air, trying to act like something had caught his attention. Then, as nonchalantly as he could, he said, “Don’t get to church much, s’all.”

“Ah.”

They continued like that for a while, walking along the road in silence. Eventually, Aziraphale pointed out that snakes don’t have wings or other means of international travel, and that Crowley was rather heavy on the shoulders, besides. With only minor grumbling, Crowley slipped off and shifted to human form. “I’m not flying back, though,” he insisted. “Not unless it’s first class. I like those tiny overpriced drinks they sell on the plane.”

Back at the church, the service was letting out. It was disappointing to lose yet another snake, but at least no one was arrested this time. The churchgoers made pleasant conversation as they put on their coats. At some point, someone offered to call an ambulance for those who’d been bitten, but oddly enough, everyone’s wounds had already healed just fine.


End file.
